Nutrition 101
by bellagill92
Summary: As he looked at her, he could only picture a gravestone saying 'Erza Scarlet, killed at age thirty by hyper diabetes/sky-high cholesterol/massive heart attack'. How was she not morbidly obese? (Part of the 'Our World' series. Can be read as a stand-alone fic.)
1. The Ice-Cream Sandwich

**A/N: **Because we all know Erza's notion of nutrition has to be questionable at best...****

**June x793**

It happened on the very first morning after they had moved in together.

It had not, by any means, been the classic 'I love you and you love me, so let's shack up' sort of move. True, Jellal loved Erza and she loved him but their relationship as a couple was still very much early days. They had, so far, only gone on a handful of dates together and never gotten past heavy making out when it came to physical intimacy. Any sane person would be able to see they were nowhere ready for the usual sort of romantic cohabitation.

So, the question was: why were they cohabitating in the first place? Well, it just so happened that, fairly recently, Jellal had found himself with some urgency in moving out of the room the guild had been providing for him in its headquarters due to certain… covert activities he had come to learn that were happening in his bed in his absence, courtesy of the guild drunk and her equally drunk boyfriend. Really, he had been willing to move to the sewers at that point, so deep ran his desperation and disgust… but Erza had put her foot down at that. Not at the sewers factor… no, more like at the Jellal-having-somewhere-he-could-run-away-to-and-wallow-in-guilt-while-avoiding-all-things-happy-Erza-included factor. And it seemed she didn't trust anybody but herself – and therefore any home but her own – to keep his guilty outbursts in check.

He had been more than a little surprised to find out that she had, in fact, owned a house roughly since she had qualified as an S-class member (something like eleven years before, time spent in stasis included). She had, apparently, put off moving into it ever since in fear of loneliness after being used to constant companionship at Fairy Hills, which was what made Jellal moving in with her 'the perfect arrangement', in her own words (said in a high, trembling voice that he would later identify as her own dose of mortification).

He had easily agreed when she had first suggested it, mostly because he had, by then, realized that there was no saying 'no' to her when she _really_ wanted something. Besides, the arrangement had seemed tame enough and geared up to avoid any awkwardness: along with occupying separate bedrooms, they were to act as friends and housemates and nothing more within the walls of that house, leaving all romantic interaction at the door until they were ready to further their relationship to that level. Simple and easy, right?

Wrong. Suffice to say, the effects of prohibition were often reversed.

In hindsight, he probably would have been more comfortable with sharing an abode with the rats and miscellaneous vermin that the sewer option had included. Not because he found Erza far more disgusting or anything of the sort. No… it was the very opposite. And that was the problem. It was just so _hard_ all the time…

He had slept maybe four hours in that first night, too busy staring at the ceiling through which he could picture Erza sleeping in her own bed inside her room one floor above him like some shameless creeper, while at the same time berating himself from doing so because of the rules they had set up to keep things comfortable (an impossibility if he had ever seen one).

And it wasn't just the night that brought up the lustful thoughts. It had been like that all day the previous day – reverse psychology had kicked in the moment he had walked through the door as one of the house's inhabitants and the rules about leaving lust outside had come into play. Soon enough, that little bead of sweat he had seen running down the back of Erza's neck while they carried her dresser upstairs had appeared to his eyes as the most erotic thing he had seen in his life and the rather conservative long-sleeved pajamas she had worn the previous night while serving herself a glass of water in the kitchen before bed might as well have been the naughtiest of all naughty negligées. He was hopeless… and hopelessness was going to make their water bill sky high what with his constant need for showers. On the positive side, they would probably save quite a lot in water heating, though, seeing as his showers did not require such a luxury.

So, as he stared at his bedroom door that first morning, he was not looking forward to coming out and yet again face the torturous task of spending the day right by the source of his endless lust without embarrassing himself. But he could already hear her going about outside, moving things around. He couldn't simply hide in his room all day and leave all the work to her. In fact, she wouldn't even let him – the very basis of them moving in together was her being able to drag him out of his room when he felt like hiding. As such, he forced himself to get up and, very stiffly, get dressed (not needing a shower after the half dozen he had taken throughout the night).

He spotted her almost as soon as he opened the door, sitting on the living room floor while inspecting what seemed to be an instruction manual to assembling the partially-constructed chair in front of her. Even though she was nowhere near seductively-dressed – in fact, she was still wearing the long-sleeved pajamas from the previous night and her hair was in a rather messy ponytail – his mind went out of control almost immediately, forcing him to fight the urge to close the distance between them and kiss the living daylights out of her.

For a moment, he considered suggesting that they stepped out of the house – and therefore out of the agreed non-romantic area – for a more intimate morning greeting. Such an idea was immediately refuted, however, since he was sure she would think him a complete pervert with no sense of self-control if he made such a suggestion. That was their home – no perverted thinking inside their home!

"Jellal?" she said, blushing when she noticed him standing there looking at her strangely. "G-good morning."

"Good morning," he responded awkwardly, forcing himself to look away. "You've started early."

"There's still a lot to do," she replied, gesturing at the warehouse-like state of the living room, full of boxes and bags, before giving him a more thorough observational look. "You seem tired. Did you not sleep well?"

He felt his face heating. "Ah, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

She narrowed her eyes. "Restfulness is important. Maybe you should take a few more hours of sleep."

"I really don't think I could…"

"Was it the bed?" she interrupted him and, then, in line with that behavior, didn't even give him the chance to answer the question. "Why, of course it was. I should have realized that after having been abandoned in this house for so long, it wouldn't have been in a condition to be slept in. What was the issue? Was it creaky? Was the mattress bulgy? Maybe we should get you another one. Heart Kreuz has launched a very pleasant new bedroom set…"

"No, no! There is no need. There was nothing wrong with the bed or the mattress," he assured her. Why did it have to be a bed they were talking about?! "I just take some time getting used to new surroundings. And I couldn't possibly allow myself to rest while you do all the unpacking. It wouldn't be fair."

"Considering all of your possessions are already unpacked, I'd say it would," she countered.

Since he owned very little, he couldn't really say that wasn't the case. "I'd still feel better by helping, regardless," he stated – truthfully, even though he was certain the constant closeness to her that would entail would be nothing short of physically painful. Then again, maybe he didn't need to be that close to help… "Have you eaten anything? I could run to the town and get us something to eat," he suggested.

She shook her head. "No need. I brought sandwiches yesterday. Help yourself. They're in the ice box."

He allowed himself a moment of mourning his foiled escape plan before raising an eyebrow as the content of her words hit him. "The ice box?" Why would she have sandwiches frozen in the first place? Sure, some sort of cold storage would help keeping them from spoiling but outright freezing them seemed just overkill. They'd probably end up soggy too…

Erza's only response was to gesture towards the kitchen, having already picked up a screwdriver and started her chair-building task, and, with a sigh, he made his way there, heading straight to the ice box. But, upon opening it, he found himself looking at only a tray of ice cubes and a box of ice cream. "Erza, I don't see any sandwiches here," he said loudly so Erza would hear him outside of the room.

"_They're right there," _she replied. "_Next to the ice-cubes."_

"There aren't any sandwiches next to the ice-cubes. Only ice-cream," he said back.

Erza didn't answer then. He simply heard her approaching steps before she walked into the kitchen with an annoyed look on her face. Mavis… she looked even prettier when she was angry… no! Bad thoughts!

And so, as Jellal fought his own closet-perverseness, Erza finally reached him.

She had been warned about situations like that. Upon announcing to some of the girls in Fairy Tail her intentions to move out of Fairy Hills and bring Jellal along to her new abode, she had been offered a tremendous amount of warnings about the living conditions of men. Up until then, not twenty-four hours after the move had occurred, Jellal had proven them all wrong: no toilet seat constantly up, no laundry strewn everywhere, no messiness… he was actually very neat and helpful. She shouldn't be surprised – he _had _spent over half a decade living in the constant company of Ultear and Meredy, who must have trained him well (not that he had seemed particularly slob-y before). But now one of those warnings had to come into play and, out of all things, it had to have been one of the strangest ones: refrigerator blindness. She was a bit disappointed.

So, she unceremoniously walked over to the ice box, reached in and pulled the box she was referring to, shoving it in front of Jellal's eyes. He blinked at it in confusion.

"What does it say here?"

"'Ice-cream'," he read.

"_No_. You're missing the line underneath. It's 'ice-cream sandwiches'," she informed him victoriously.

He stared at her. His brain was as frozen as the contents of the box. She… she couldn't… she wouldn't actually believe that… "You're joking, right?" he asked, just to be sure.

She frowned deeply. "Why would I ever be joking?!" she demanded.

He was quiet for a moment. She most certainly didn't look like she was joking. Oh, _god_. "Erza… you _must_ know that ice-cream sandwiches are not the same as… say, tuna sandwiches…"

"Of course I do," she said firmly. "Just as ham sandwiches are not the same as chicken sandwiches."

"No, no, _no_. Wrong," he said almost desperately. "It's _completely different._"

"I agree – ice-cream sandwiches are much practical than most other sandwiches," she agreed, completely useless. "It's dairy in a sandwich – practically milk and toast, only tastier. The perfect breakfast!"

He felt something within him die at that statement. Oh, Erza… He loved the woman to death… but not even he could deny the truth that was revealing itself: that, nutritionally speaking, she had as much sense as a four-year-old. Or rather, she was so set on believing what she conveniently wanted to believe that she was even willing to ignore blatant facts that pointed on a completely different direction.

"Erza… ice-cream sandwiches don't even include bread."

"Of course they do. They are sandwiches – all sandwiches are made with bread! It's just special delicious bread."

"Also known as a cookie!"

She gave him a look. "Cookies are crispy. These are too soft to be cookies."

"Because they're _soft cookies_," he pointed out.

She gave him a skeptical look. The kind that said 'alright, if you say so… but I think you're stupid'.

He sighed. "Just to make sure, you don't… have this type of breakfast every single day, right?" _Please say no. Please say no. Please say no. _

"Of course not," she said, much to his relief. "I'm afraid my requip space doesn't allow for refrigeration."

He was confused. "Heh?" What did she mean by that?

"They would melt in there, Jellal," she explained, again looking at him like he was painfully dumb. "I couldn't possibly take ice-cream sandwiches along when I'm out on a job."

He hesitated for a moment. "So, what you're telling me is that you don't eat ice-cream sandwiches for breakfast when you're in a job. But other than that…"

"An ice-cream sandwich a day will keep the doctor away," she quoted the nonexistent proverb.

Such a statement was so tragic that Jellal actively wanted to weep. Weep because, as he looked at her, he could only picture a gravestone saying 'Erza Scarlet, killed at age thirty by hyper diabetes/sky-high cholesterol/massive heart attack'. How was she not morbidly obese?!

But no… there was still hope. She did, after all, spend a lot of time in jobs, so maybe things would be different then. "And when you're away in jobs…"

She shrugged. "I mostly have cake for breakfast," she shamelessly provided. "But I always get the kind with extra cream."

Jellal's eye twitched. "For the dairy, I imagine."

"Indeed. It is a very important source of calcium."

Just like that, lust shattered. Which was not to say he was turned off when it came to Erza forever (as if that could even happened). No, his priorities were just rearranged. Suddenly, lusting after Erza was not the number one topic in his mind. How could it possibly be when he suddenly realized that his intervention was vital if he wanted to keep her alive?! From that moment on, his number one task would be to protect her from the biggest threat to her life at the moment: her own mind.

He took a deep breath and then spoke. "Erza, I think we are going to need to have a long discussion about your current diet."

**A/N: I hope you guys liked it! Nothing like picturing your girlfriend's impending death to kill the lust :D**

**Leave some feedback guys - it's the best way for us writers to improve!**


	2. The Cherry Special

**A/N: As requested by popular demand, here is the follow-up to Nutrition 101. Fair warning, it's not nearly as funny as the first. More like... dark.**

"There's no shame in being wrong," Erza said, a hint of victory in her voice as they made their way into town, returning from a short trip to Porlyusica's.

Jellal didn't respond. Saying Erza had found it hard to believe he was correct in telling her that eating ice-cream sandwiches for breakfast every day were killing her health would have been an understatement of epic proportions. There had been denial from her part, laughter at thinking he was making a joke and then, in a particularly tragic moment, an actual note of concern that implied a certain amount of pity at his 'blatant gullibility' upon realizing he wasn't trying to be funny.

After several attempts to convince her that he was right came without fruit, Jellal had resorted to desperate measures. "_Let's ask a professional_," he had suggested and Erza, always willing to take a challenge, had immediately agreed.

It had not, Jellal had to admit, quite led to the results he had been expecting. He could only assume that was because Porlyusica was in a trolling mood that day. Because, really, that was the only reason aside from mental impairment that Jellal could think of for the woman to say what she had said.

"_So, what you are saying is that there is no issue whatsoever with her starting nearly every day by consuming a bomb of sugar, fat and god knows what else?" _he had skeptically asked the woman just to make sure, all while searching for signs in her face of a recent stroke that might have cause her to become erratic.

"_Why would there be?_" had been the answer he'd gotten

He'd hesitated in responding for a moment. "_Did I fail to say the part about the 'bomb of sugar, fat and god knows what else' aloud?_" he'd asked hesitatingly.

"_No, you did not,_" Erza had informed him, a slight smirk of 'you are wrong and I am right, so suck on that'.

There had been a few more moments of silence. "_Porlyusica-san… are you feeling unwell by any chance?_" he had asked, genuinely concerned.

"_I am fit as a fiddle, boy. If your girlfriend feels like eating ice-cream for breakfast, she should do it. In fact, is she wants to have it for every meal of the day for the rest of her life, she could do that too_," the older woman had informed him, her attention partially split with her search for something to write on. She's eventually found a notebook and scribbled an address in Magnolia into it, which she handed to Erza. "_Just make sure you pay a visit to this shop if you plan to keep indulging your sweet tooth. Ask for their cherry special. It's very _tasteful."

Erza's eyes had lit up. Strawberry was, of course, above all flavors in her flavor pyramid but cherry was not very far behind. All red fruits had a special place in her heart.

And so, there they were, headed to the shop the moment Porlyusica unceremoniously kicked them out at Erza's insistence. And although Erza was visibly gloating over her 'victory' in what came to nutritional ideologies, Jellal was busy trying to figure out how to go about telling her that the 'professional' they had just consulted was the wrong one, not him, without risking sounding extremely conceited.

"I wonder if this cherry special is a cake," Erza was saying. "Maybe we could have it for lunch if it's the case. Porlyusica _did_ say it was perfectly fine."

He could tell she was just rubbing it on his face. His only response was a sigh. Poor, misguided Erza… if he wasn't so deeply devoted to her and unwilling to make her feel bad, he might just be looking forward to rubbing it on her face that she was wrong once he proved her so.

Once they reached the indicated street, Erza's eyes scanned the number of every door until she found the right one. And once she did, she made her way in without even looking past the door.

Inside, she couldn't help finding that a very strange establishment. There were no tables, no refrigerated display for baked goods, not even a cash register… instead, it was a rather sober room with a desk at the end of it and, rather than cakes on display there were… headstones? Could it be one of those trendy new theme cafés, that one somehow inspired by all things funereal?

"This doesn't look like a bakery," Erza said aloud when Jellal came in, nearly a minute after her, having hesitated in doing so for reasons unknown.

"That's because it isn't," he replied. Unlike her, he _had _bothered to look at the sign above the door and the rather enlightening window display. "Erza, this is a funeral home."

"A what?!"

As if on cue, a short, stocky man in a dark suit came out of the backroom. "Welcome. How can I help in in this grieving hour?"

Erza cleared her throat. "My apologies. I think we may be in the wrong place. Is this number 24 on Pomegranate Street?" she enquired.

"It most certainly is," the man, likely the funeral director, replied.

There was a moment of silence. "Why would that woman send us to a funeral home? Could she have given us the wrong address?"

"I don't think so," Jellal replied, already getting a visual of what was going on.

The funeral director cleared his throat. "Excuse me. You mentioned a 'woman' before. That wouldn't happen to be Porlyusica-san from Fairy Tail, would it?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, it is," Erza confirmed, mildly suspicious.

Curious, Jellal cleared his throat. "You didn't seem very surprised that it was Porlyusica directing us here," he remarked. "Is this… usual of her?"

The funeral director sighed. "Unfortunately. It happens once or twice a month, I'm afraid. From experience, I have come to know that it usually happens after she has given the person in question some… seemingly irresponsible advice."

Erza looked confused. It was clear she couldn't phantom that she herself had been offered such advice as well.

"Advice such as telling someone to go ahead and eat ice-cream for every meal for all of eternity?" Jellal inquired.

"Oh dear… yes, I believe that would fit the bill," the funeral director confirmed. "If I may dispense some advice, you might want to… er, ignore that particular piece of wisdom. Experience has told me that redirecting her patients to our establishment after advice of that sort tends to read something like 'do it and you may need this type of services soon' between the lines."

Erza remained quiet. By then, she was slightly more enlightened and her lower lip was starting to tremble.

"Ah, as I feared," Jellal admitted. From the moment he had spotted the funeral home, he had guessed that had been Porlyusica's special way of teaching Erza a lesson.

"B… but… the 'cherry special'," Erza mumbled helplessly. She sounded truly heartbroken that she was not getting to taste the pile of cherry-flavored decadence she had pictured in her mind after all: something that looked like the lovechild of cake, sorbet and mousse. "Why would she torture me with such a fictional delicacy?"

The funeral director cleared his throat. "I am sure it's not at all what you were expecting but we _do_ have a 'cherry special'. If you'd like to have a look at it, I could show you."

Jellal had been about to turn down the offer (Mavis only knew what a 'cherry special' could be when it was closely related to a mortuary) but Erza was quicker in saying yes. There was some light back in her eyes, as if she was expecting the 'cherry special' to be some sort of complimentary cake the place offered to mourners.

It wasn't and, so, the light vanished again the moment they entered a casket-display room and the funeral director introduced the third casket to the left as the (in)famous 'cherry special'.

"This one is built with only the best quality cherry wood there is. It's very tastefully designed and, if I may say so, not at all expensive. As a matter of fact, we have a ten percent discount for buyers who would like to leave all their funeral affairs in order for when the inevitable day comes… I don't suppose you are interested, are you?"

Erza simply shot the man a look of outrage while Jellal had the cadence to speak even though he looked equally mortified. "Not at the moment. I think we have taken up enough of your time, so, if you don't mind, we'll just take our leave."

The funeral director sighed. "Well, let me know if you are ever interested. Couples get an extra five percent discount."

"We'll keep that in mind," Jellal stated. "Please excuse us." Thus, he actively led the mournful Erza out of the wretched establishment, since she seemed too stunned to move by herself.

Outside, he let her stand motionlessly and silently for several moments. By then, she seemed to have started pouting, glaring daggers at the poor, unexpecting funeral home.

"Erza, are you alright?" he asked her softly.

"So, I can't really eat ice-cream whenever I feel like it? And cake? And… sweets?" she asked in a sad little voice.

"Not unless you want to…" he gestured vaguely towards the funeral home. "Well… you get the picture now. You might want to apply the same logic to cream."

She gasped. "Cream is evil too?!"

"The most evil type of dairy, if you will…"

"But … why?"

"Because fate is a cruel mistress," he said

Her lip trembled again. "I wanna go home," she mumbled, her voice sounding like a child's. When she started walking, she was so affected that she went on the opposite direction of where she should go and Jellal had to follow her and manually turn her on her heel.

Later, as they moved along the town's streets side-by-side finally in the right direction, it didn't come unnoticed to Jellal how in the corner of his eye he could spot her stealing glances at him and opening her mouth as if she was going to speak, only to close it seconds later as she changed her mind. It wasn't until they reached the edge of town, headed to the wooden cabin they now shared in the outskirts of Magnolia, that he decided to spare her.

"You know, this situation is not as bad as it seems, Erza," he said.

She looked up at him, a hint of surprise on her face. "Aren't you going to rub it in? That you were right and I was wrong?"

He chuckled and shook his head 'no'. "Gloating is not really my thing. I'm just glad you're seeing things more clearly now."

The surprise only lasted for a second because he had never given her a reason to believe that he was a gloating person. In fact, he had always been the very opposite… well, Siegrain phase aside (as if that one counted for anything). Even though the fact that his gentle-self remained through her moments of largest insufferableness gave her fuzzies inside (enough that, without thinking, she linked their hands as they brushed together while walking side-by-side, much to Jellal's momentary fluster) it made her feel further ashamed too. "'m sorry I was so stubborn," she mumbled, looking down. "I just… I _really_ like sweet things. Especially strawberry-flavored. Thinking they're actually evil in disguise…"

"They're not _evil_," he assured her. "Just a little… naughty. Especially in excess, like most things. And, like I said, it's not so bad – we have no reason to believe you have to stop having sweet things altogether. You're a very active person, so I guess you burn through that sugar fast but we should still… er, try to make those sweets a side to a more wholesome diet… and maybe leave ice-cream sandwiches and cake for dessert rather than breakfast._"_

She pouted a little, though she wasn't hostile enough to let go of his hand.

"You know, strawberries are everywhere this time of the year, though, and those aren't evil at all" he said to cheer her up. "I'm sure there are plenty of interesting breakfast recipes including them out there. Maybe I could borrow cookbook from the library to find some… I am no Mirajane Strauss but Meredy and Ultear never complained about my cooking." Which was something worth saying because those two had never had any qualms about complaining even if they risked starving or accidental poisoning if they had to cook themselves…

Before he knew it, Erza had taken a step back and her face was red. Very, very red. "S-so you… you are s-saying you… you will c-cook me… _b-breakfast_?!" Somehow, such an offer sounded incredibly… intimate in her mind. Almost too much for her to take. They hadn't even gotten to second base yet and he was already… propositioning breakfast to her?! How forward!

"Not just breakfast!" he quickly amended, recognizing there might be some sort of implication in the offer. "I meant lunch, dinner and any other meals too! We do live together now…"

"Oh," she replied, a lighter blush colored her cheeks upon realizing that it had mostly been a misunderstanding from her part. "But it doesn't sound fair that you'd do all the cooking…" Still, the idea of him cooking for her sounded just so… heavenly and domestic. And picturing him wearing an apron made her mouth water for some reason. Boy, was it going to be hard to enforce the agreed temporarily-non-romantic-area within the walls of their home with such temptations at hand's reach…

"Why not?" he stated. "I mean, at one point or another, we will have to split household chores… it just makes sense that I would take up cooking when you've already told me you don't like doing it. If it makes you feel better, I guess you can help doing the dishes afterwards."

"Hmm… when you put it like that…" she replied, still looking mildly embarrassed.

They slipped into a comfortable silence for the rest of the way home, walking side by side with their hands brushing together. It wasn't until they reached the front porch of the house that Erza spoke.

He was just about to open the front door when she placed her hand on his wrist, stopping him. He gave her a questioning look and, before he knew it, she was on her toes, reaching up to press a kiss to his lips, just outside of the 'romance ends here' barrier, erected by the house's walls. For all its softness and tentativeness, it lasted for almost a minute, being at the same time wonderful and slightly confusing.

Once they broke apart, she was blushing and averting his eyes. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, wondering what she was referring to, specifically.

She blinked and then, after a second, shrugged. "Being you?" she said, a hint of doubt in her voice. Not even she seemed to be sure what she was specifically thanking him for. But then, she shook her head and turned to face the door, opening it herself. Once she stepped into the threshold, she was back to being regular Erza rather than her romantically flustered/embarrassed by her own actions version. "Now let's put ourselves to work. We have a move to finish!"

Outside, Jellal couldn't help chuckling. That had, probably, been the first of many conflicts arising from their cohabitation. Still, even though he was still convinced that living together without _living together_ was going to give them a lot of grief, he couldn't help but be glad they had.

If all conflicts ended in a sweet note like that one, he most certainly was looking forward to the ones that were to follow.

**The (definitive) End**

**A/N2: Well, if I don't have a chance to post anything else before Christmas (I am hoping that I will), Merry Christmas, everyone!**


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